


In Your Room

by StrikeLikeACobraKai



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: College, Dorms, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Going all the way, Long-Term Crushes, POV Barbara, POV First Person, Romance, Sex, new couples, sweet babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29155323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/pseuds/StrikeLikeACobraKai
Summary: Late January, 1987.Barbara and Bobby got together on Christmas Eve, after a memorable party at Jimmy’s beach house.  The semester has started and they’re back at college, still dating. Barbara is falling for him, and she decides it’s time to take the next step.Can be read as Malibu-canon-compliant, but alsostands alone without the Malibu context, and can therefore be freely enjoyed as a Bobby/Barbara oneshot.(A Malibu companion-fic)
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Barbara (Karate Kid)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 7
Collections: Malibu-niverse





	In Your Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! So, this is set after the events of Malibu, but you don’t need to read that to enjoy this one. All you need to know is that Bobby and Barbara go to UCLA together, and they dorm in the same co-ed Hall. Bobby had a crush on Barbara for months before he asked her out. Barbara, meanwhile, had a crush on him back at school, before 1984 came and changed everything with Ali’s group and Johnny’s group. But at Christmas time in 1986, they finally got it together, and they’ve been dating for a month or so. Pretty sure that’s about all the context you need.
> 
> If you enjoy this, and you want to find out how they got together, you’ll need to go read the other story, because this romance is a subplot there.
> 
> And if you are a returning Malibu reader, hey you :) Here’s my latest spin-off! Did you catch the end of Violet Bloom (Susan’s story)? I will be posting Chapter 6 of A Match Made in Heaven (Jimmy’s story) soon, and Chapter 4 of Malibu in Miniature (Johnny/Ali), which is the second part of the mini-story “Never Too Late”. I hope you enjoy all of the Malibuniverse.
> 
> On with the story!

I’m sitting up on one of the washing machines in the laundry room, on the third floor of my residence hall.

I’ve got my basket of dry clothes next to me, and I’m all done. Bobby’s still going, so I’m just hanging out and chatting with him. We’re both in the laundry room on my floor, not his, since most RAs don’t get too much on your case about things like that, as long as you don’t make any trouble.

There are fifteen washers in here, five of them along three walls, and the other wall has the plastic waiting chairs, and a square table with some magazines from about five years ago, with torn corners, even some with pages missing, where students have spotted singers or movie stars they like, and taken a souvenir.

In the center of the room there’s a long, high, narrow table you can use for sorting your laundry. The ten or so dryers are all mounted up on the walls above the washers. We’re lucky there’s a laundry room on each floor of our hall, because you hardly have to wait for a washer or dryer, although some of them don’t work so great; we all know which ones are likely to stop mid-cycle.

Only a few washers are swishing and whirring in motion tonight, and one dryer, filling the room with that damp but warm smell of clothes drying, mixing with the washing powder scent that dominates the room.

“That’d be right,” I hear Bobby mutter. He’s pulling out stuff from his second load, which just finished, and he’s shoving it in the dryer above his head, big handfuls at a time.

He slams the dryer door shut, which you have to do, to get these things to latch.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing,” he sighs. “Just Tim, sneaking his clothes into my wash. Lazy asshole.”

“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose. “You just washed your roommate’s underwear with your clothes?”

“His socks, actually,” Bobby says with a laugh. He turns the dial and presses the button in, and the dryer starts up, whirring.

“That… might be worse?”

My boyfriend turns to me and grins, blowing his hair out of his face. “Yeah. Don’t wanna think about it too much...”

He throws a glance over to the other guy who’s in here, sitting over on one of the chairs under the window. But the guy’s got his face buried in a Psych book, and isn’t really paying us any attention.

Bobby’s eyes meet mine and I smile in invitation, so he steps up to me. He comes between my knees, standing almost against the front of the washer, and I rub my foot lightly along the back of his calf. Like me, he’s barefoot, and he’s wearing these checkered shorts which I think he sleeps in, with a casual white tee, which fits snugly around his body.

“You wanna go hang out in the lounge after this?” he asks softly, resting a hand in the small of my back.

“Yeah, we could.”

Bobby kisses me lightly at the corner of my mouth, nothing too much for public view. “We can find something to watch, unless you need to study?”

I love the way I still have butterflies about moments like this with him. I slip my arms around his neck, and find the lengths of his hair to slip my fingers in, and he moves a little closer. His hips under his shorts brush the inside of my thighs, and I can sense the strength and heat of his body.

My eyes roam over his face, the shape of his eyes, kind and open under his brows; his rounded lips which always catch my attention. His soft hair frequently sits somewhere just between a mess and tidy, and those blue eyes look like pieces of sky against his tan, like he’s a perfect summer day: all light, all optimism and joy. Which is basically how he makes me feel.

“If you’d like to,” I say quietly. “But I did have another idea.”

The other guy’s chair shifts, scrapes on the linoleum, and jolts me out of my moment.

He’s getting up and pulling clothes out of a dryer, and still paying us no obvious heed. Two girls that look familiar, but whose names I don’t know, come into the room holding their laundry, throwing each of us in here heedless glances before resuming their chat and heading over to some washers.

I lower my voice more. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” Bobby asks, looking into my eyes. Patient, unknowing where I’m heading with this.

I whisper. “How likely is it I’d get caught… if we… hung out in your room, tonight, instead?”

My sweet boy’s eyes fill with surprise, kind of uncertainty, maybe.

“You… my _room_?” he asks.

I smile and slip just one finger under the very edge of his tee behind his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Yeah… I mean, if you want to invite me. I figure if I _did_ get caught, there’d be less trouble than you coming to mine. Plus… Tim is away.”

I let those words hang there for long enough. The sounds in the room continue: the dryer ticking over with something hard, metal, catching on the door with each spin around, a new washer starting up with water filling, the girls’ chatter, all background noises from far away.

Bobby wets his lips, looking deep into my eyes. I think he’s checking what I mean, so I let him see. We haven’t done that yet, although we’ve talked about it, and Bobby knows it’s something I don’t rush into.

He swallows and the hand at my back rubs an unsteady pattern. “If you’d like to come to my room… please, come to my room.”

I smile and stroke the back of his neck, under his hair, the butterflies finding their way all throughout the center of my body, especially up high, because it’s out there: I’ve said what I’d like to do, more or less. I’m feeling a mix of not being able to wait even one second longer, and pure nerves.

“Okay,” I manage, and use a breath to steady myself. “I will. How about if… I give you twenty more minutes here? And then I’ll wait until the coast is clear.”

When he nods, I hop down and grab my basket. I head back to my room to get ready.

*

It’s not hard to dodge RAs when you have an impeccable reputation.

I guess I’m above suspicion, and so it isn’t long before I’m standing in front of the right door, checking both ways along the corridor one last time, and quickly letting myself in, closing the door again before I’m seen.

Bobby’s standing in the middle of his dorm, all his weight on one leg, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides, fidgeting.

He’s still in his pajamas, and now I am, too: I’m wearing my lavender, silk, short-sleeved shirt, with buttons down the front, and little matching shorts.

His room is the same layout as mine in reverse, with a bunk bed on the right, against the wall, a dresser in the center under the window, and a wardrobe cabinet on the left next to the long desk and chairs. I see the sleeve of some denim jacket, just the edge of it, which has been caught in the closed door, sticking out.

Brown carpet with the same nondescript pattern. It’s not a lot of room for two people to live in, but then you technically don’t have to spend any more time in your room when you’re awake than you want to. There are lounges, study rooms, exercise rooms, outside, even the library. So as long as you don’t dislike your roommate, or have one of those roommates who ask people over without talking to you about it, most people that I know make it work.

“Do you mind about the music?” he asks.

There’s a little radio on the dresser, and Bobby’s got it playing some softer rock station.

“No, of course.”

We smile at each other, and I wonder if he’s at all nervous like me. It feels weird to be in here for the first time, and I think Bobby works that out without me saying it. He comes over to me, and I find myself stepping back to lean against his door.

“You look pretty.”

He’s very good at keeping his eyes on my face when he says things like that, and I’ve always appreciated it. It makes me feel like I am much more than my body to him; I _know_ I am.

“In this?” I say, with a deprecating smile.

“Are you kidding right now? You gotta know how beautiful you look to me standing here, right?”

My cheeks warm up, and I’m smiling into his eyes.

Bobby runs a finger under the thin gold chain of my necklace and then reaches up into my hair, behind me.

“Do you mind?”

I feel his fingers at my hair-tie, and I shake my head.

Bobby gently tugs my ponytail loose. My hair comes down in a bit of a wavy mess, kinked from being up. He smooths it to fall neatly over my shoulders, to the sounds of _Every Breath You Take_ floating to us from his radio.

“You’ve sneaked into my room,” he says, whispering even though he doesn’t need to. It’s very pleasant, makes me feel warm all over, and I shiver.

“What would people think?” I ask, trying to put a little flirting into my voice.

“If they’ve got a brain, they’d think you’re the prettiest girl on campus.”

Before I can let out the breath that catches in my chest, he kisses me.

A lovely hand is on my cheek, and the softest mouth is touching mine, moving slowly. He tastes of cool mint, so I know he must have brushed his teeth like I did, but the coolness morphs as our breath pools together, warm between our lips. I open to him, enjoying the tender, measured way his tongue finds mine.

The flutter of my heart isn’t much stronger than the butterflies’ wings would be, and I’m completely drawn into this private moment with my boy. His hand moves softly into my hair and holds me while we kiss, his body moving lightly onto me so I can feel him.

I slide my hands around him, noticing the hard shapes under his tee which glide by under my hands while I wrap him against me. Bobby comes in closer, and my breaths become light and shallow. He’s starting to kiss me deeper, and I’m letting him work all of this out, because I’m here just trying to stand up, wondering how it can feel this nice to be with him.

He runs his fingers down through my long hair again, until his hand touches my chest, and I gasp.

He pulls away, his hand, and from the kiss, but when I give him an encouraging smile, he softly leaves it there on my shirt again, on the end of my hair, lightly resting on my breast.

There’s a tiny movement over me, like he wants to see if I’m ready for that yet, and it will be okay if I’m not, but I _am_ , because I get a sensitive shiver from his palm grazing me. I’m breathing out between my lips, staring right into the intent look Bobby is giving me, feeling all kinds of heat trails starting up now, pretty gentle, but they’re moving through me, and I really like it.

His hair falls in front of his eyes a little when he looks down and starts to trace around the hard place which is prominent through my shirt. I see him working his bottom lip between his teeth like he is enjoying touching me, and it makes it feel even better, each stroke a little tickle which makes my skin respond more, makes my stomach tighten.

“I’d like you to take my shirt off,” I say, with courage that surprises me. “I want you to undress me, and I want to undress you.”

Bobby swallows again, like I’ve asked him something that’s a big deal, and I _have_. We’ve spent some special time touching each other, under our clothes too, but we haven’t been undressed yet, not really.

“You’re killing me here,” he says quietly, smiling, and kissing lightly along my chin. “Will you come and sit on my bed?”

I nod, and he takes my hand and draws me back there. I kiss him again as we walk, and we’re smiling at each other, both of us anticipating what we’re going to do tonight, at last.

He sits down on top of his comforter, with his legs wide open and bent around in a U shape. The song changes; the restrained guitar lead-in to _Wish You Were Here_ quietly filling Bobby’s room. I fit inside his space with my legs crossed. It smells like him here, like the hint of his cologne and whatever he uses in the shower: woody, fresh like lemon, a little spice, peaceful but passionate like he is.

I let my knees rest on his thighs, and come right in against my beautiful boy. He puts his hand on my cheek again, like he did when we were kissing just before, and I lean my head against his, looking down at his mouth.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks.

“I know you’re going to take care of me.”

The hand on my cheek presses quickly in. “Of course I will. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything, Barbara. Not until you want to.”

Bobby’s so sweet and gentle with me, like no guy I could have ever imagined would be. He never pushes me to do a _single_ thing, respects my right to have my own pace, and he always makes me feel like anything we do together is a dream come true for him. Like it _all counts_ , and he’s not missing out on anything.

There’s no way to describe how that feels, other than honored and valued and cared for, beyond all expectations.

I don’t think I knew Bobby was going to be like that; I’m not sure if I thought _any_ guy would be. I knew how much I liked him back at school, knew there was always something about him, even if I didn’t understand a lot of things that happened that last year of his. I do now; he’s told me everything, and now I know.

I also know that I’ve got the most beautiful boy in the world, and I don’t mean with how his eyes look as we sit together; I don’t mean the fact that his face is pretty much what I figure an angel would look like. I mean his heart, which is what counts for me, and he already owns mine.

It’s a little scary.

I open just my top button, and watch as his eyes are drawn there.

“Please?” I whisper.

His fingers slip the second and third buttons through, and then the last one of all. He can see my stomach now, and up to the space between my breasts, but I’m mostly covered up.

He wets his lip and uses both of his hands to hold me through my shirt either side of the opening, so gently that he might think I could break, but his hands are like magic there.

“You should keep going,” I say.

“Are you sure?”

I smile. “I really want you to.”

Bobby slowly pulls my shirt apart far enough that he can see me.

His expression is so admiring it makes me blush. I always can’t help but worry I’m not big enough there, but with the way Bobby looks at me, my heart flutters again, ineffectively trying to beat.

“Is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” he whispers, shaking his head slightly, like he’s awestruck. “You’re so beautiful… how come you want _me_?”

I lift one of his hands onto me there, and he moves to cup me.

“Sweet _girl_ ,” he says on a hot breath, fitting his fingers delicately around me, his palm covering my nipple. “I…”

Having him speechless, and still so gentle, is reassuring, filling me with everything I need to feel for tonight. My boy won’t let his feelings or passion take over and make him disregard mine; nothing will change how he is with me.

I move in, coming to his lips from the side so I can start to kiss his softness again.

His hands warm me and caress me like I’m being treasured, and it _tingles_ inside me, desire steadily gathering.

Bobby is the most thorough and perfect kisser. He’s soft and deliberate, and there’s no way to think about anything else but him when it’s happening, and it’s way, way more, now that he has his hands on me. He’s holding me softly, stroking my skin, and my body delights in his tenderness.

My fingers slip into his hair to bring him in deeper, and my breath is catching, irregular due to his touches. It’s like I’m being intoxicated, it feels so strong, and the heat moving through my body is powerful and undeniable. I _need_ him tonight; it’s time. There’s no going back for me.

I knew it would be like this, once we began, which is why I made up my mind beforehand, about what I wanted to do today, since it’s hard to stop once we start. Today we’re not stopping.

I pull on one side of Bobby’s shirt, bringing it up so that I feel the smooth skin of his fit body. He breaks our kiss to look at me, and I nod. He takes it off in a smooth move, and it nearly _hurts_ to see what he is underneath, up so close, all at one time. I can’t stop my hands as he kisses me; I’m already touching him, blissful thoughts of disbelief at how good our intimacy feels crowding through my mind, dulling my senses, because he’s _stunning_ , my boy has such a beautiful body, and it’s all for me.

I move into him and he doesn’t resist my push, lying back for me on his pillow, so that I’m over him. His hands are still inside my shirt and I’m touching his chest, and our skin joins, brushes together, so close, nothing keeping us apart.

There’s just enough height in the bunk for me to sit up, which does two things: Bobby’s eyes crease at he stares up at me sitting there, like he can hardly take me in, and I sit down on him, and dear god, that’s the first time we’ve touched there.

A pulse of shockwaves come out from the feeling of that contact between us, and we need to do this _now_. If anyone tries to stop me, I will scream.

I sit down firmly, and I can feel him, that part of him lining up along my body down there, and it’s so new and _so nice_.

He sighs up at me in desire, and his hands move up to my shoulders, taking my pajama shirt, pulling it back. He moves slowly enough that I could stop him if I wanted to, but I let him pull my sleeves down my arms, and then all the way off.

He throws my shirt beside us on the bed and then smiles and traces up the sides of my body.

There’s a little lift of his hips, which brings a press up into me. That’s _him_ there; I’ve touched him, but only with my hands, and now, oh my _god_ , he feels perfect there.

“I need you,” I softly admit.

“I need _you_ so much… how can you be so pretty?”

As good as it feels to sit up on him, I’m feeling the desire to kiss him again, and I can’t fight it.

I find his mouth, lying down more on him this time because the way it feels for our bodies to touch is delicious. I spread my knees out a little wider so I can get some more contact, like when I was sitting, and _yes_ , there it is. We kiss passionately, getting lost in it, and his tongue seeks mine, so silky, so hot. My breasts press in between us, and that sends new flares of warm excitement down into my lower body.

“Are you… are you sure about this?” he says onto my lips.

“I can’t wait any longer.” 

His delicate fingers slip beneath the legs of my shorts, and start to travel up my skin. I’m holding myself just an inch or so from his face, and he’s watching me. My heart’s racing in anticipation, little simmers of heat all drawing in together to where his hands are going.

I breathe in sharply when his thumbs brush along the top of my thighs, along the crease of my legs, and I shudder unwittingly.

Bobby laughs softly and bites his lip before he brushes back the other way, and my eyelids close.

He rubs me there, each stroke moving just a little bit closer, over slightly more sensitive skin. I can feel his unsteady breath, and I guess it must be turning him on a lot to do that, but surely nothing like how it’s making me feel.

I start to kiss him, softly, lightly, and then I know he’s _really_ touching me there, because it feels so good all of a sudden that I moan.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I hear him murmur, before we kiss long and deep, and he begins to explore me properly.

Everything in my body now feels like a bundle of nerve endings, good feelings flashing though me, a hot center of it all forming tight inside me.

He picks up his pace according to my sounds, and I start to get pretty needy for what he’s doing.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we… please, we need to… start.”

His touches slow, stop. “Now?”

“Right now,” I say urgently, and he smiles.

“Okay, you’ll just have to let me…”

He wraps one arm around me, and reaches out for the drawer in the dresser with the other. He opens the nearest drawer and fishes around, before coming back holding a condom.

He leaves it lying on the sheet next to us and runs his fingers along my sides, which tickles in a nice way.

“How would you like us to do this?” he asks softly.

Bobby knows it’s not my first time, and I guess both of us probably know things we like, so we will be starting to find things we like together, from now. The fact that he doesn’t want to take control and just get what he wants, that he’s looking patiently up at me even though I can feel for myself how ready he is… it has a lump in my throat, like I’m not sure what to even do with a boy like this.

“Anything you want.”

He smiles and holds me around my waist. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” I’m finding it hard to breathe now we’re so close to it. He watches me as he runs down along my body, all the way to my shorts. His fingers work underneath my waistband, and he moves them down a few inches, below my hips.

I reach down to take over, lifting up my knees one at a time. He’s still staring at me when I feel him moving to take his shorts down too, the way his body lifts up as he slips them down and away.

I slowly sit up, and I think both of us are looking down at each other; we can’t help it. I’m seeing how damn gorgeous his stomach looks, and the little hairs that start below there. And then I’m looking at him, his brown-pink skin drawn tight, my body twinging with new desire because he’s beautiful, he’s ready, and I’m going to have him.

My attention is caught when he tears the wrapper open, and he prepares himself quickly. Then I lean down over him, feeling the fluttering in my chest again. When I move I feel the tip of him brush against me, making me tremble so that I can barely steady myself on one arm, but I position him on me and push backwards onto that blunt pressure.

My body starts to part for him as I sink down, so snug, how it is at the start, like there’s only just enough room. I take my hand away and slowly take him inside, watching the blissful smile that colors his lips, the way his tongue comes to wet them.

I have to kiss him then, and I do, sighing into him when he’s fully inside me. His hands move down over my ass, which makes my skin press on his body around where we’re connected, and it feels _good_.

His lips slip over mine in our kiss as I rock over him, slowly for now, taking him in deep again each time, moaning softly at the sensitive places that are being touched inside and outside of my body. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s made our first time feel amazing this way, but even so, it’s a lot more than I could have hoped for in any daydream.

I sit up over him, and I’m far enough into our desire now that I don’t feel shy, I feel confident, and even more when he bites his lip as he looks up at my body again. I move against him with more fervor, starting to lose myself in the physical side, letting it well up.

Bobby runs his hands up my arms, and I’m loving watching him start to fall under the passion too. It helps me to shake off even more inhibition, as our eyes lock together and I keep us going.

“How can you feel so good…” he says.

I moan, because my body is feeling tight, everywhere around where my thighs meet just wound up in a spiral, on fire.

“Bobby,” I cry, and my body is wracked with my trembling. I float into the clouds, and his grip is around me, holding me up.

I hear my boy telling me, “I’d wait a hundred years for you.” It sends my mind even further into paradise.

When I come down to kiss him again, I’m still shuddering, and his hips are coming up to meet me, something more desperate, and then my beautiful boy groans against my lips.

It drags out my feelings, tied up inside this moment we have that nobody else knows about, that nobody could understand.

“You don’t need to,” I whisper, finding his ear, kissing him there.

We subside, joined together now, both of us complete. He holds me as we recover, and then I move away. After Bobby has taken care of the condom, we lie on his bed, his arm around me. His hand runs slowly up my arm, and I’m turned into his body, in his embrace, trying to work out what I ever did to deserve him. How to possibly bear how much I care about him.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“For what?” asks his relaxed voice. It’s still full of exactly the same affection, and I am pleased to feel my butterflies at what it’s like to hear it while he holds me afterwards.

“For making it feel like that.”

There’s the touch of his lips, a kiss in my hair, gentle warm breath.

“I thought that was you.”

I smile, wondering if I’ll get away with sleeping here tonight.


End file.
